


Split Lips and Bruised Ribs

by PrinceSircastic



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: M/M, Slash, Tim is sassy and Smash is done, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/pseuds/PrinceSircastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smash knew Tim always got into fights, but when he catches Tim in the midst of one, he takes it upon himself to get him out of that. Tim of course isn’t big on being saved by people, but Smash wants to make sure he’s alright. Not because he cares about him or anything… (prompted by isaythee-nay on Tumblr.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Split Lips and Bruised Ribs

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't understand why there's no fic for these two, so this is my attempt at correcting that. First time writing either of them this way so if they're out of character anywhere that's why. Give it time.

Smash just wanted to get home, grab a bowl of cereal in front of the TV, and then collapse in bed and sleep. He'd had a long day of working out, and with practice on top of that, he was left craving time to chill out and relax. God knows his body was craving it, too. 

He'd just pulled his car keys from his pocket when he heard the shouting. 

His head told him to just get in the car and go home, but his curiosity got the better of him – and his heart told him those shouts didn't sound good. With a sigh he pocketed his keys once more and set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the commotion. If this turned out to be some stupid kids fucking around, he was gonna be annoyed. 

It wasn't. 

A small group of men had formed a circle around another, and they were all shouting and cheering him on, many of them laughing cruelly. Smash knew a fight when he saw one, and he knew better than to get involved. He turned, intending to leave them to it and let someone else break it up, when he caught a glimpse of who the guy was fighting. Tim Riggins. 

Of course it was Tim. Everyone knew Tim frequently got himself into fights, although usually they were with other guys his age. Smash hesitated now, though he wasn't sure why. Tim wasn't his problem, and if he wanted to get his ass kicked then he should leave him to it – but the fight didn't seem particularly fair, and Tim was definitely spending more time on the ground or getting beaten up than he was fighting back. 

"Hey!" Smash was running over before he'd even realised he'd called out to them, and the men turned in surprise. He pushed through them, surprised that no one had stopped him, and he threw himself at the guy currently laying into Tim, shoving him off and stepping between them. "Back off, man. That's enough." 

"Like hell. Get outta my way, kid." The guy hissed, taking a step forward. Smash shifted into a defensive pose.

"Oh trust me, you don' wanna do that." He warned. The guy hesitated, obviously weighing his options, and then he scoffed and stepped back. 

"Whatever." He shrugged. "Just tell your buddy to watch his mouth. Could get him killed next time." With the fight at an end, the gathered crowd began to disperse, many of them muttering to one another in disappointed voices. Smash watched them all head back into the bar across the street, or into cars, and then he turned to where Tim was sprawled on the ground. 

"Y'alright, Riggins?" He extended a hand to him, the same way he would if Tim had been injured on the field – but unlike those times, Tim didn't take it. 

"The hell d'you do that for?" He snapped, pushing up from the ground and brushing himself down. He turned his head to the side and spat blood into the gravel. 

"What?" 

"I don' need you to step in, Smash." Tim stepped right up into his face, anger written over his face. "I don' need someone to fight my battles for me." 

"Yeah, cause you had it all under control, right?" Smash lifted a hand and firmly pushed Tim back a step. "Looked to me like you were gettin' your ass handed to you." Close up, he could see the damage that had been done – a split lip, bloodied nose, and almost certainly some nasty bruising around one eye. And that was just the visible damage. "Or was that the point, huh?" 

"Don' you judge me, Williams." Tim shook his head a little. "Oh, I bet you're lovin' this, huh? Typical Tim Riggins, drunk an' startin' fights as usual. Well you can go along and tell all your friends how you were the brave knight ridin' in on your high horse to save the poor white trash kid from getting his ass kicked!" Now it was Smash's turn to shake his head. 

"You're a piece o' work, Riggins. You know the world isn't all out to get you." He shoved past him, making sure his shoulder slammed into Tim's on the way. "Ever occur to you that someone just wanted to help? You should try saying thank you once in a while." 

"I don't need your help!" Tim snapped back, following him as Smash began to walk away. 

"Right, 'cause there's nothing wrong with you at all." Smash rolled his eyes, turning back to face him. "Man, you smell like the inside of a whiskey bottle, an' you're wearin' your own blood. Yeah… you're doing just great, Riggs." 

"Go to hell." Tim staggered away from him, and Smash gave another roll of his eyes. He'd have better luck convincing a wall it wasn't a wall. Well, if Tim didn't want his help, then he wasn't gonna stick around any longer than he had to. Except… Tim was leaning heavily against a wall, spitting more blood and looking even worse than he had five minutes ago. 

"Maybe you should head to a hospital." He suggested, not quite sure why he was still standing there. "You look pretty rough." 

"I don't need a hospital." A lot of the fight had left Tim's voice – now he just sounded worn out, like he'd given up. Smash muttered a 'damn' under his breath and walked over, grabbing Tim by one shoulder. "Hey, get off-," 

"Shut yer mouth, Riggs. I'm sick o' hearin' your voice." Smash pulled him away from the wall and began steering him towards where he'd left his car. "If you won't go to a hospital, then I'm takin' you to the next best thing." He pretty much manhandled Tim into his car – though he noticed that he wasn't putting up too much of a fight anymore – and slid into the driver's seat after him. There was silence as he started up the car and pulled out onto the road, and Smash glanced over to check that Tim was at least still breathing. He was leaning against the door, forehead pressed to the cool glass of the window, the sleeve of his jacket held against his face as if to catch the blood that still dripped from his mouth and nose. Well, at least he wasn't getting blood all over his car. "You do this often? Piss off guys bigger than you to get your ass beat?" When Tim said nothing, Smash sighed. "Hey, Princess, you can stop actin' like the world just shit on you. It ain't that bad." That, at least, got his attention. 

"Thought you were sick of hearin' my voice." Tim murmured, raising one eyebrow at him. 

"Man, you really are an ass." Smash laughed a little, shaking his head as he turned down onto a different road. They both fell into an awkward silence, right up until Smash pulled over and cut the engine. "Get out, we're here." Tim glanced out of the window, frowning as he realised where they were.

"The hell are we doin' here?" He reluctantly got out of the car when Smash didn't answer, and he lingered at the side of the street as Smash began striding up towards a very familiar house. "Want me to walk you to your door, darlin'?" 

"Shut up and get over here, Riggs." Smash called over his shoulder. Tim hesitated, and then followed after him with a sigh. The last time – and only time – he'd been here, it had been under entirely different circumstances, and he wasn't too comfortable about coming back in this state. Smash was waiting by the open door when he finally caught up, and he ushered him inside quickly. "Mama?" He called as he entered the house – and Corrina Williams appeared from the living room only a few seconds later. 

"What's goin' on?" She took one look at Tim and turned her gaze on Smash. "I hope you didn' have anything to do with this, Smash, or so help me-," 

"Relax, Mama. It was some guy in a bar." He told her. "Look, he won't go to a hospital so-," 

"Well let me look at you, boy. Come on in." Tim didn't even attempt to protest as he was ushered through to the living room. He knew better, really. Corrina sat him down on the sofa and disappeared further into the house, returning a moment later with some first-aid supplies. Smash leaned in the doorway, watching his mother examine Tim Riggins on his sofa. It wasn't exactly something he'd have ever expected to see. Corrina took her time, cleaning away the blood and checking to make sure Tim's nose wasn't broken – and when Tim denied being in pain anywhere else, she gave him a look that had him shrinking back a little and admitting that his ribs were maybe hurting just a little. Smash smirked at that – you just couldn't lie to his Mama. "Well, doesn't seem like anything's broken." She stepped back, satisfied. "Now you take care o' yourself, boy, you hear me?" 

"Yes ma'am." Tim gave her a smile, getting up from the sofa. "Thank you."

"And you won't go getting' yourself into more fights?" 

"No ma'am." Corrina gave a nod, happy with his answer. 

"Good." There was a shout of 'Mama' from upstairs, and she sighed. "I swear it is one thing after another tonight…" She patted Smash's arm as she passed him, calling back up as she ascended the stairs. Tim stood awkwardly for a moment, trying not to look too closely at the family pictures scattered around the room because it reminded him of how he'd never had a normal family, and the only pictures on display in his own house were photos of the Panthers. He doubted they even owned any family photographs.

"You need a ride home?" Tim had almost forgotten Smash was still standing there, and he shook his head, aiming for the door. 

"I can walk." Smash caught his arm before he could leave, and Tim sighed. "What? Gonna tell me again how much of a screw up I am? 'Cause I don' wanna hear it, Smash." Tim wrenched his arm free, and Smash was about to snap back at him when he realised Tim was hurt – and not physically. "Look… thank your mom again for helpin' out." Tim quickly made his exit before Smash could stop him again, and he was halfway down the path when Smash called out to him.

"Hey, Riggins." Smash hesitated, and then he grabbed his keys and stepped out of the house. "Come on, man. I'm the reason you're out here, so let me drive you back." 

"If I say no, you gonna throw me in your car again?" 

"I might." Smash smirked at him, and Tim actually laughed – short, and quiet, but it was definitely a laugh. "Just get in the damn car, Riggs." Tim considered being stubborn, but he really didn't feel like walking and he knew Smash could be just as stubborn, and so he sighed and followed Smash to his car.

The drive was a little less tense this time, and the painkillers Corrina had given him were just kicking in, so even the pain wasn't causing too much discomfort. He sat back in the seat, sliding down a little to find a position that was more comfortable for his bruised ribs, and glanced over at Smash. 

"Why'd you step in, Smash? You coulda just walked away. Didn't have to get involved." Smash didn't take his eyes off the road, and for a moment Tim thought he wasn't going to get an answer, but then he spoke. 

"Honestly? No idea." He admitted. "Far as I know you deserved the kicking you were getting. Just… didn't seem right, I guess."

"Well… thanks." Tim muttered, inwardly cringing as he said it. Smash actually grinned at that, and glanced over at him.

"Was that a thank you, Riggins? You mind giving written evidence o' that?" Tim lashed out with one hand, smacking Smash's arm rather sharply. 

"Shut up." He huffed, sliding further down in the seat. They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, right up until Smash pulled up outside Tim's house. Smash turned to look at him expectantly, and Tim raised an eyebrow. "What, no goodnight kiss? You're a lousy date, Williams."

"Get out of my car, Riggins." Tim smirked, but he opened the door and got out, leaning down before he closed the door again. 

"Hey, uh… I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about tonight, y'know… to anyone." Smash shook his head with a smile. 

"Trust me, Riggs, I'm not gonna say a damn word. See you at practice." Tim nodded and stepped back, closing the car door. He hurried up to his front door, turning to watch Smash drive away, and he sighed. 

Maybe Smash wasn't so bad, after all. 

\-- 

Smash was true to his word – not a word was spoken of last night, and they went back to their usual banter as if nothing had happened. It would probably have stayed that way, too, if Tim hadn't taken a tackle hard enough to cause some major discomfort to his bruised ribs at practice that afternoon.

He went down hard, hissing with pain at the impact, partially curling in on himself as the pain spread right through him. He barely registered the rest of the team calling out as they noticed, or Coach calling his name. When he felt hands on him, he tried to move away, tried to get up without help so it would be somewhat less embarrassing and easier to shrug off. 

"Riggs, hey, take it easy." Smash. It was Smash who had rushed to his side, it was Smash who was helping him to his feet. "Is it your ribs?" He asked, his voice quieter this time, and Tim nodded a little. 

"I'll be fine. Back off before this gets weird." He tried to put some distance between them, but Smash wasn't having any of it. 

"Coach, I think Riggins should sit the rest of this one out." He kept a hand on Tim's shoulder as he told Coach about his bruised ribs and how it had happened, and when Coach agreed that he should sit it out, Smash walked him over to the side and stood by as one of the other coaches examined Tim's ribs for any further damage. 

Tim felt that the other guys were definitely giving him suspicious looks in the locker room after practice was over, and so he took his time in changing. By the time he'd finishing shoving his kit into his bag, he was alone. 

Well, mostly alone. 

"Cornering me in the locker room? Startin' to think you're hot for me, Williams." He slung his bag over his shoulder, wincing a little at the movement.

"Just checking you're okay." Smash sighed a little in frustration. "Is it so hard to believe that someone actually cares?" 

"When you're me, yeah." Tim shrugged, and Smash realised just how tragic that actually was. What made it even worse was the resigned way Tim had said it, as though he'd given up hoping things would change. "Look, I appreciate the sympathy, but don't bother. You don't have to pretend to like me just cause you feel sorry for me, Smash."

"I'm not pretendin', Riggs." Smash dumped his bag down in frustration, and stepped right up in his face. "You're an ass, an' frustratin' as hell, but you're a Panther, one o' the team, and we're a family. We look out for each other. That's what families  _do_ , Riggs." 

"Yeah, well not mine." Tim snapped, letting his bag slip to the floor. "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't exactly have a perfect happy little family like everyone else. I don't have photos on the wall, or a mom to clean me up and take care of me. I never have!"

"Riggs-," 

"So don't start acting like you give a shit about me when I know it's just bullshit, Smash!" Tim winced as Smash grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the nearest lockers, hissing as pain flared up from his ribs. 

"If I didn't know it was what you wanted, I'd hit you right now, Riggins." Smash growled, pinning him in place. "Yeah, your life sucks but you know what you're not the only one with issues, so stop feeling sorry for yourself." He shook his head, easing back a little but not releasing his grip even the slightest. "Man, no wonder you don't have any friends if this is how you act when someone tries to be nice to ya!" Tim grabbed Smash by the shoulders and twisted them until their position was reversed. "Go on then Riggs. Hit me, if that's what you want. Hell, maybe you need to. Maybe it'll make you feel better, but it won't change anything. Just let someone care about you for once." 

"Why you?" Tim demanded. "Of all the goddamn people in this town, why do  _you_  care?" 

"I don't know." Smash admitted, shrugging a little. "I just know I couldn't leave you to get beat up last night, and now I just wanna make sure you're alright." He laughed, shaking his head again. "It's crazy, I know." Tim stepped back, releasing him as he did so. "Look, Riggs… I ain't suggesting we be best buds, hell we don't even have to be friends if we don't want, just… I think you need someone." 

"And that someone is you?" Tim scoffed a little, but it was half-hearted. "No offence, but that don't exactly fill me with joy." 

"You wouldn't be Riggs if it did." That actually made Tim smile, and he sank down onto a bench with a slight sigh. "Why don't you come to dinner? I'm sure Mama would love to have you over so you can compliment her and her cookin' again." When Tim glanced up at him, he quickly added, "If you make a comment about it being a date, I swear I'll beat your ass." 

"Actually… I was jus' gonna say that'd be nice." Smash clapped him on the shoulder and when he smiled down at him, Tim returned it. 

\-- 

Tim wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in Smash's bedroom – one minute he was helping Corrina to clear the table despite her protests that he was a guest, and the next he was following Smash up to his room. He sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed whilst Smash put on some music, glancing around the room at the various posters and things on the walls. It was a very different room to his own, that much was certain. Smash finally settled on some music and he turned to face Tim, who looked up at him with eyebrows raised. 

"Is this where you seduce me and we have sex, or…?" Smash just rolled his eyes, dropping onto the bed beside him. 

"Shut up, Riggins." 

"Be gentle with me. I've never done it before." 

"Do you do this with girls?" Smash asked, unimpressed. Tim grinned, and Smash realised he couldn't have asked anything worse, given the situation. 

"Only if they ask nicely." Smash threw a pillow at him, and Tim laughed, tossing it back at his face. "You walked right into that one, Williams." 

"Man, you're impossible, Riggs. Do you ever take anything seriously?" Smash sat back on the bed, using the pillow he'd thrown at Tim to cushion his back. 

"Not unless I have to." Tim shrugged. "More fun that way."

"If you say so." There was a moment of silence, and then Smash sighed. "You play video games?" Tim didn't know where this sudden display of friendship was coming from, especially given their history, but it was actually rather nice, and even if it didn't exactly make sense to him, he wasn't going to turn it down. 

Two hours into a game and Tim found himself sat with Smash side-by-side on the bed, leaning back against the headboard as they killed zombies on the TV. Corrina had been up an hour ago with some soda and chips for them, and a bag was still open between them, half-empty. Tim hadn't spent an evening like this since before Jason had had his accident. Smash cheered when they reached the next level of the game, and whilst it loaded, he grabbed a handful of chips from the bag. 

"Man, you're good at this." He said to Tim, who reached for the glass of soda on the bedside table.

"Me and Jay used to play all the time." He shrugged one shoulder, setting the glass down after taking several gulps. "Y'know, before…" He trailed off, not wanting to say the words and knowing Smash would understand. 

"Right, yeah. You guys were best friends." Smash nodded, picking up the controller as the level finished loading. "What happened to that?" 

"Well when you sleep with his girlfriend whilst he's still in the hospital, it kinda sets you back a bit." Tim muttered, perhaps a little bitterly. He wasn't angry with Jason, not at all – he fucked up, and he knew it, and he regretted everything. "But… we're working on it. Sorta." They focused on the game for a few minutes, until Smash spoke again. 

"You know this is probably the most I've heard you talk about stuff close to you." He commented casually. "Without making stupid jokes, I mean." 

"Yeah, well… I don't like to." He shrugged again, muttering a 'damn' under his breath as his character was killed by a zombie. Smash turned his attention back to the game just a little too late, and his character followed Tim's a moment later. "Damnit. Never could beat this level." He glanced at the time, and sighed. "I should probably be getting back anyway." He set the controller to one side and made to get up from the bed, but a hand around his arm stopped him.

"Tim…" Hearing his name from Smash's mouth was enough to make him sit back again, because he honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd heard it from him. The only member of the team who'd ever called him Tim was Jason, and only outside of practice, really. It was… nice, actually. He realised Smash hadn't said anything else, and that they'd basically been staring at each other for at least a minute.

"If you're gonna kiss me you should know I always use tongue." 

"Oh, shut up Riggs." Smash murmured, before closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to Tim's. Well, he certainly hadn't expected that. Tim tensed a little in surprise, part of him wondering if this was Smash getting back at him for all the remarks he'd made in the past – but it didn't feel that way, and he was definitely being kissed by a guy who, a few months ago, would probably have been happy to kick his ass into next week. 

And it was actually rather enjoyable. 

Of course, as with all good things in Tim's life, it was over way too fast. Smash pulled back before he had a chance to react properly, and there was an awkward moment when their eyes met and it finally sank in that yes, they'd just kissed. Smash was the first to react – he hurried to climb off the bed and he crossed the room to the door, avoiding looking at Tim as he did so. 

"You'll probably want to go." He muttered, reaching for the door handle. Tim moved fast, jumping up from the bed and hurrying to the door before Smash could open it. He caught him by the shoulder and turned him around, pressing him up against the door and holding him there. "Riggins? Hey, look, I'm sorry. I don't know what that was, I just-," 

"Shut the hell up, Smash." Tim cut in with a smile. "Two things. First, I don't think that counts as a goodnight kiss, and second… I need to correct a slight error." When Smash said nothing, Tim smirked. "I believe I told you I always use tongue." 

Before Smash could say anything, Tim leant in and kissed him.


End file.
